


Five Times...eh...One Time Malcolm Tucker was Happy...uh...Not Angry...er...Not Actively Thinking of Killing off Everyone in the Building

by havent_got_a_clue



Category: In the Loop (movie), Thick of It (UK)
Genre: Angry Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Control, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Scottish Character, Slash, Swearing, Voyeurism, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-05
Updated: 2010-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:57:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havent_got_a_clue/pseuds/havent_got_a_clue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Malcolm needs to be out of control so he can carry on without killing people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times...eh...One Time Malcolm Tucker was Happy...uh...Not Angry...er...Not Actively Thinking of Killing off Everyone in the Building

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the In the Loop 'verse more because it lent itself a little better to the shameless PWP this is and I adore Judy and Simon more than I should, but at its heart, it's just Jamie and Malcolm.

**”Simon FUCKING Foster!** Secre-FUCKING-tary of State for International Cock-ups! That’s what you are! Now get the FUCK out of my office before I rip your BALLS from your trousers from the girls’ section of fucking Top Shop and use them as earplugs when I don’t want to listen to Judy blathering on about whatever it is she fucking does round here!”

To say Malcolm was in a mood was just a slight understatement. Simon looked annoyed but ushered himself out quickly with Malcolm in hot pursuit, ready to hurl another insult if needed.

Malcolm spotted Judy with a file up to her face trying desperately not to be noticed, but it was too late. “YOU! Susan Boyle with Smoker’s Lung! Get me Jamie!”

Judy shook her head in protest. “Malcolm! For the FIFTH time just this morning, I am NOT your personal assistant! You’ve got fingers I am sure you just pulled out Simon’s rear end you can use to ring up Jamie yourself! I’m only just sort of in the middle of something that--”

“Yes, yes, of course.” He paused and his face softened like he might for once agree, but it was a mere shift into neutral gear to rev up for an even mightier scowl. “Tell it to fucking Bono! Or-or Bob Geldof! At least when they want to solve world hunger I can ignore the fucking Chris Moyles Show when they play the song, but I can’t turn you off, now can I, Judy? Get me Jamie! Go on! The longer you stand here, the more people in Tunisia die!”

Judy’s rolled her eyes and sighed, knowing that the only way to shut Malcolm up was to just get Jamie and go about her day. She rounded Simon as she walked. “What the HELL did you do this time?”

For the next 45 minutes, Malcolm made phone calls and shouted a lot and threatened people at _The Times_ and occasionally there were smashing noises. It was so loud that no one noticed when Jamie finally waltzed in holding a file box and in a suit stained with what 75% of people in a poll around the office thought might be blood.

He marched into Malcolm’s makeshift office, slammed the door, and within seconds the blinds were snapped shut.

“It’s not another Pergau Dam situation, Bob and if you run with the story I will personally come down there wearing a custom made t-shirt I made off fucking Cafepress that has a very interesting picture of you and Stuart MacLeish in the backseat of your car last month! I’m sure your wife AND your mistress would love to see me prancing about with your arse getting hammered by a 17 stone bald MP on my chest! I’d love to see what that would do for your career! And his! You’d be dead and buried under the foundation they’re going to pour for his new mansion as soon as he sues _The Times_ before I could get on with your grieving wife and your 18 year old mistress...Oh? Well I’m glad you see it that way! Lovely to talk to you, Bob! Fuck off and die, you titfucking faff arse.”

Malcolm slammed the phone down and rounded the desk to Jamie and promptly slammed him into the wall behind him, pushing, pulling, and fucking his mouth with his tongue. “About fucking time you fucking showed up, Jamie. God, if I don’t get fucked hard right fucking now I am going to chop off Simon’s cock with a biro, warm it up it in the microwave and feed it to the entire Foreign Office--’Congratulations! Here’s a cock for being such a cunt!’”

Jamie chuckled and unfastened his trousers to expose himself and pushed Malcolm down to his knees and for once, Malcolm was silent. He eagerly took Jamie in his mouth, sucking and swirling that exquisitely verbally abusive tongue over sweet sensitive flesh, hard since he had gotten the call from Judy, and his mouth was hot, slick, needing to be filled to stop the anger. Jamie held Malcolm’s head in place with a tight grasp, whispering little encouragements and stifling back moans, and as efficient and biting as Malcolm’s tirades were, they were second only to his cock-sucking skills.

“You’re my whore, aren’t you, Malcolm? Always want it, _need_ it from me when you get hot. Do they all know that you get hard when you yell? Do they know what you hide in your trousers all day? Do you think Simon Foster knows how hard I have to fuck you when he’s been off being a wanker? Look at you, Malcolm! Take out your cock and let me see it while you suck me off.”

Malcolm did as he was told and unfastened his trousers to pull himself free. Jamie could see he was stone hard. He pet Malcolm on the head like a master to a pet dog. “Good. Good. So fucking good. You want it fucking you, Malcolm? You want me pounding into you?” He grabbed a fistful of short hair and yanked Malcolm off his cock. “Answer me when I speak to you!”

“Yes, Jamie! Please!” Malcolm needed the release to even consider functioning for the rest of the day. Jamie roughly yanked Malcolm to his feet and shoved him to his desk, pushing him down to splay him over papers and files, and worked the top of the mysterious file box off to reveal, amongst legitimate press materials, a bottle of lube.

He worked Malcolm’s trousers and shorts down with angry pushes and, working Malcolm just barely open with a wet finger, ignoring the ringing phone, Jamie rutted against his bare arse, grinding expensive wool and metal and cock into his skin, not giving him any more pleasure until he heard the hiss of pain. Malcolm tensed and pushed and heaved into the feeling and hitched with a “fuck” in his throat, but Jamie yanked Malcolm’s tie around to the back, making it hard to breathe and Malcolm managed no more than a strangled, “Ff-” before he was silent again.

“Good boys stay quiet when there are people milling about just outside.” It was threatening, but Jamie rubbed himself on Malcolm all the same, leaving a trail of wetness as he did.

“I’m sorry, Jamie.” It was barely a whisper. Jamie had Malcolm trained so well. He spread the lube on himself and Malcolm.

“That’s better, Malcolm.” He steadied himself and took a deep breath, ready to relish that first push, that first slide and the deep, biting sigh as Malcolm tried to stay quiet.

He watched Malcolm’s knuckles go white, gripping the edge of the desk, wrinkling what were probably important papers as he pushed in slowly, watching as every inch disappeared and it was so fucking good, so hot and tight and _needed_. Malcolm breathed under him, forcing the air out to be able to take more of Jamie.

When Malcolm’s fingers relaxed, Jamie pulled out slightly and thrust back in, harder and faster than the first push. A harsh cut-off moan escaped Malcolm’s throat. Jamie bent down close to Malcolm’s ear. “Breathe, Malcolm. Don’t let Judy know what I’m doing to you in here. This is our secret, yeah?”

Malcolm said nothing, but nodded. Jamie thrust again. “The great Malcolm Tucker getting fucked in his office behind closed doors by his Senior Press Officer. She’d never let you live it down.” He thrust again as his hand settled on top of one of Malcolm’s and he squeezed it, forcing it up off the desk. “We haven’t got all day.”

Malcolm took the hint and reached for his own cock, squeezing and fisting in time to Jamie’s thrusts. He wasn’t going to last long, which was probably for the best since he did have a lunch meeting.

Malcolm was lost in his own thoughts of staying quiet with all the stimulation that he didn’t notice the knock on the door until he heard Simon’s voice outside. “Umm...Malcolm? I just wanted to--”

“GO THE FUCK AWAY, SIMON, BEFORE I BITE OFF YOUR SAD LITTLE BALLS AND MOUNT THEM IN MY CAR LIKE FUZZY DICE! WE’RE FUCKING BUSY IN HERE, YOU SHITE-FUCKING TIT!”

An awkward pause preceded a resigned, “I’ll just come back later, then.”

That Jamie never stopped thrusting as he yelled sent Malcolm over the edge. He came, hissing and white-hot at the edges, spilling over one of Judy’s inane memos. He could just make out the word “purview” under the spray of white.

Jamie took a few more thrusts before he came, biting Malcolm’s shoulder as he did to stop the yell. Malcolm collapsed against the wood and memos as Jamie pulled out. His mind was finally quiet and he could take a few moments to gather his thoughts before he stopped the global war that he was sure Simon had started that morning.

The two men quickly cleaned up and redressed, straightening ties and jackets, tucking shirts and tossing stained papers. One final kiss and Jamie walked out as he came in, a whirlwind of insults aimed at everyone he saw.

Simon and Judy stood at the coffee machine and watched the bloodstained suit leave. “Should I try now?”

Judy sipped her coffee, smiling behind the cup. “Give it a few, Simon. Malcolm...needs a moment or two...after Jamie leaves.”

Simon looked confused, but retreated to his office. Judy ran to her own office and opened the program on her computer that was connected to the hidden CCTV feed she paid a personal assistant to set up in Malcolm’s temporary office months before and smiled.


End file.
